Minion
by hardeehar
Summary: After her husband accused her of being a spawn of a demon who only hurts those around her, and then being murdered, Christobel wanders the Earth as a spectre, searching for her way to the after-life. When she is assigned to protect L from supernatural forces, will she find her way to the after-life? L/OC M for gore (and maybe more.)
1. Chapter 1

~o0O0o~ flashback/end of flashback  
Dialogue is Italian, unless implied otherwise.  
Other languages: English and Greek.

Minion

Prologue

I never really had a childhood. I spent my single digits caring for my sick mother and sister; my father worked constantly, so I never saw him. Somehow, I never got sick, I was always healthy.

~o0O0o~  
"Christobel, my darling, could you fill my cup please?" Mother asked her eldest daughter, whilst her younger one was tucked in a wrap, suckling her breast. The dark-eyed, browned hair, clone of her father ran to attention, doing as her ailing, rasping mother asked. She walked back, careful not to spill a drop. Mother took the water just as she slipped a pill past her chapped and scabby lips. She knew it wasn't good to breastfeed whilst she was sick, but what other she does she have? The infant is not old enough to eat anything solid, and there's barely enough food for her eldest and herself. The ailing mother spoke softly in Italian to Christo, who was softly petting her sister, "My darling, are you hungry?" The girl looked to the ill woman and reluctantly nodded. Mother sighed, adjusting her youngest who had started to whine, "Very well... go fetch the pot, and fill it with water..."  
~o0O0o~

I also didn't have the opportunity to go to school, but Mother taught me what she could. Luckily, she was not only a wise woman, she was 'book-smart' as well.

~o0O0o~  
A young girl, about seven, walked back into a house, and to her mother. She carried a flat tray of dusty dirt, same color of her skin, or maybe she was coated in, who could tell. She sat down in front her mother, who was braiding the honey colored hair of her younger sister, who was two. Luckily, it seemed the tiny child had some fighting blood in her, for she had made it past her first year of life, something her family feared would not happen. Christobel always envied her little sister, only slightly, but still. Her name was Andreina Marietta, Beautiful name she thought, while her own was Cristobel Orsola. Andreina, or Andy, was a beautiful child, and looked very much like her mother, sharing honey-colored hair, clear skin, and a pretty face.

Christo put the tray down, and her mother turned to her, ready to teach some maths. They used this dirt for learning just about everything that requires to be written. While Andy was still learning her Alphabet, Christo was learning simple math, and a little English.

"What is your name?"

"Il mio... um... My name is Christobel..."

"Very good"  
~o0O0o~

Now, even though I did not see my father often, I still loved him dearly, and he was always the star when he came home.

~o0O0o~  
"Father! Father! You're foot! You're foot!" He chuckled as his daughter tried to speak his native tongue, but mixed up house and foot; how she managed to do that, he did not know. He painfully go down on one knee if front of her, took her hand, kissed it, and said, "It is σπίτι(spíti) child. Not πόδι(pódi)." He ruffled his daughter's hair. She helped him to his feet so he could walk over to his wife to kiss her on the cheek, and do the same to his youngest daughter. The ill women admired her husband's regal face, which he had passed on to their eldest daughter.  
~o0O0o~

Even though we were poor and Mother was sick, I was happy. I was loved and I had my family. Of course that wouldn't last long...

~o0O0o~  
Christobel held her five year old sister's hand tightly as they darted through the dirty streets of the city, quick to get away from Breadman from who was stolen from. When they got back to their little home, Christo immediately regretted letting her younger sister accompany her. She watched the five year old spit up blood and collapse, her breathing erratic. "Chrissie...," the elder sister held the child calmly as silent tears rolled down her grimy cheeks. She had lost Mother and Father, now she will lose her Andy. Andreina whimpered as she finally succumbed to her sickness. 'It's my fault...,' she thought, 'if I had made her stay here, she would have been fine.' But Christo was smart enough that she knew she was not truly to blame, Andy would've followed her. Even if she hadn't, she wouldn't have lasted much longer.

As the makeshift door way to the sister's home was flung open, the orphan girl gave herself whiplash as she turned her head to see the now sweaty and panting Breadman.  
~o0O0o~

After I lost Andy, and the Breadman found me (His name was Alejandro) took and made me work for him. That's how I met future husband.

~o0O0o~  
A 14 year old girl busied herself with bags of flour, trying not to giggle at the Breadman's son sneaking glances at her.  
~o0O0o~

He was from Spain, and he was god damn attractive. He wasn't the sharpest knife in the block, and followed his father and his faith a little too blindly. Either way, I was smitten with him, and we married when I was sixteen.

I became pregnant a year later, I think Jorge was more excited than I was. We were happy, and the shop was thriving... but...

~o0O0o~  
Jorge snuck a kiss from his wife, who was sitting at the cash box, her swollen belly making her irritable, and unwilling to move around. He turned attention to the customer second in line, while his father took the first.

The store was busy that day. It had been ever since Christo's fourth month of pregnancy. As Jorge closed the shop's shutters, he heard his wife cry out, a scream almost.

Christo's labor took all of the night, and went into the morning. When the umbilical cord was cut, Christo was relieved, and relaxed, ready to calm her crying child. When she didn't hear a baby crying, she opened her eyes to see Jorge staring at the lump in his arms, his face distorted in disgust. "What? Jorge, what is it?! Let me see!" Her husband practically threw it to her, and nearly ran into his father, trying to get through the doorway.

Christo stared at her unmoving child, it's distorted figure, twisted in unnatural ways, eyes bulging, lips cleft, tongue out. She started to cry, cry for the life taken from her child, for the crushed heart of her husband, and for herself. Alejandro swiftly came to try to scoop the mangled flesh up and away, Christo clinging to it, chanting no in her head, out loud, the word weaving through her soul.  
~o0O0o~

NO! Why! I had repeated those words so many times, they lost meaning. When I became pregnant again, the same results came, the child's flesh was twisted, transparent, its bones under formed. It caused a huge rift between Jorge and I. He accused me of being the spawn of a demon, and cursed those around me, Alejandro agreed, saying that was why my family died, and if I 'remained to walk on this earth, I would cause a new plague, starting with us'. 'Us' being the father and son.

So, while I was still weak from giving birth, they bound me, and took me to a cliff overlooking the ocean.

~o0O0o~  
Christo's screams were muffled as she struggled fruitlessly against the two men. She sobbed as she felt a rope being tied around her ankle. She looked down to see a cinder block being bound to her. She felt herself being lifted up, and was no longer struggling, giving up, numbly accepting her fate. The started swinging her for momentum.

One

Two

Thr-

They let go of her, and Christo felt like she was flying. She felt almost free from her worries, then she realized that soon, she would be. Her body crashed through the water, disrupting the surface tension, breathing in the salt water, now eager to be released from this world. She quickly lost feeling to her extremities, and the water in her lungs pulled her down as her world went black.  
~o0O0o~

I know you must be thinking 'if you're dead, how are you talking now?'

Well, if you're patient, I'll tell you...

A/N: and that is the conclusion the Minion prologue. The story will be slightly AU, and may seem a little bizarre, but its interesting.

If you find my writing style odd, it's because Christobel has removed herself emotionally from those memories.

Review please, even if it's just some keyboard smashing, it shows you'll make the effort read it in the future. :) jsbdclsndj!


	2. Chapter 2

-Minion-

-Chapter 1-

Christobel floated lazily down the small town's Main Street. People shivered as they walked past her, but continued with their shopping. So much had changed in her hometown since she was alive (She had lost track of how long it has been). Her dark hair flowed around her as she moved forward, almost as if she was moving through water. She would have looked like an angel if not for the lack light reaching her. Her white, greek styled dress moved in a similar fashion and water dripped off of her and seemed to simply evaporate; ropes that once bound her hands and feet floated freely from her wrists and ankles, the tips green with algae. A cinder block, tied to her ankle, drifted reluctantly behind her, a dead weight and a reminder of her death.

Children complained of her presence, whining about the chill that went through them as they wore their summer clothes. She watched a young woman walk by. 'It seems people are progressively becoming nakeder,' Christo thought to herself. Not that she could share her thoughts with anyone, and even if she did have someone to talk to, the only sounds she could make were watery gurgles.

Christobel wander aimlessly for a few more hours, watching the living enjoy the sun on their skin, before starting for her cliff. The cliff where she was murdered. This was the place she was strongest, the place where she was almost opaque. To humans at least, animals could see her any-which-way. Christo gurgled to her only companion, a stray cat who didn't really didn't care about her, but she could pretend.

The ghoul swam through the air to sit on a dead tree that overlooked the ocean. This was where she made her wishes. It where she pondered on how to get the afterlife. She placed a slick hand over her dormant heart and squeezed, thus wringing out her dress. The water squelched between her fingers and disappeared when it got too far away. She was quickly drenched again.

'Is there something I need to accomplish? What is it? Jorge and Alejandro died long ago... and I didn't really leave anything behind when I died, I had nothing.'

She looked towards the sky, hoping for answer to her end when she saw a flashing light. It throbbed in the sky, like a beacon, calling to her. Hypnotized, she breaststroked as close to the source as could, trying to get close to the pulsating speck of light. Eventually, the cinder block got too heavy, and she had to sink back down to her tree, her hand outstretched. As she fell oh-so-slowly everything around her started becoming distorted and changing colors. The moon above warped into wisps of silvery light. A high pitched ringing sound stabbed into her head, making her feel pain, which she had not felt for an eternity.

This effect lasted for what seemed like hours, until her surroundings, which were almost purely white started to come back in focus, and it was clear she was in a different place.

Everything was white, off-white, or gold and it hurt her eyes. The spectre sluggishly spun around to look at her surroundings, which were nonexistent, except for a large structure. Christo floated forwards, toward a Greek themed building, its doors guarded by what look like statues of an angel and a demon, with them lounged on either side of the magnificent doors. She was startled as they turned their heads to watch her float by them. She avoided their gaze and floated through the large creamy white doors.

Or, at least, tried to.

The phantom bumped into the ivory doors with a soft BUNK! She looked at them, surprised; usually, she could pass through any material. She carressed the large doors, its texture was creamy almost. Christo wrapped her bony fingers around its ornate gold handle and pushed. She tried to push the door several times, but the ornate doors wouldn't budge. "Perhaps you should pull," the lady spectre jumped and turned her head as fast as it could to look at the demon statue, which seemed to have just spoken to her. The pale statue blinked its stony eyes, simply watching her.

Christo gurgled in thanks as she easily pulled the giant door out, to reveal a room that was bigger-on-the-inside-than-the-outside (the outside was already very big). Again, everything was white or off-white. In the center of the blindingly white room sat a giant marble statue (compared to the stone statues outside) of a man, or at least she assumed, since she could not see his face. There was a source of a soft light, golden colored. She realized the statue had giant wings as well, and there were gold 'feathers' randomly distributed on the wings which glowed. She floated closer to the humongous statue until she noticed a couple of figures standing at the base of the humongous marble throne.

Since they were at the base of the statue, she couldn't see them, but saw that they were floating, and were positioned very close to each other. They flew over to her, faster than she could ever go. As they came closer, she recognized them as ghosts as well. It looked like they were hit by a car. They both looked like they had been hit hard, each having bones sticking out in various places, shards of glass imbedded in their shoulders, arms, and heads, but the woman had tire marks, and was flattened slightly.

The female embraced the dripping ghoul, much to her surprise. Then suddenly a booming voice spoke to us. "Christobel Orsola Cola, do you know why you were brought here?" 'No,' Christobel thought to herself, gurgling. The godly voice chuckled in response to her thoughts; so, he could understand her... "I brought you here so you can fulfill your purpose, so then you can move on to the afterlife you so desire."

'So, is this heaven?' The voice's laugh sounded like thunder. "No, this is simply my home, and was once home to my stone creatures."

'Once?' Christo looked at the statue as she asked her question, assuming that was who spoke.

"They've crumbled away, dust now. The last two are standing outside. Ever since the Death King took over the Realm of Death, there hasn't been a need for them, with his laws in place.

Right now, you're in the Realm of Balance. It was our job to make sure the other realms stayed in balance of each other, but now, the Realm of The People has tipped the scales.

You see, before, all was in chaos, beings were selfish, and preyed on weaker beings, the worst of these troublemakers were the Deathlings. They slayed the People, and enslaved them to do their bidding. I took it upon myself to to rid of Deathling influence from the Realm of People. A leader arose from their chaos to make a deal for his people. They would be allowed to kill humans for their lifespans, and in return, they would not return to the People's realm in body. This last for a hundred years, until 1348, when a mischievous Deathling gave his Death Note to a Person. The man used the devastating power to wipe out most of Europe, in what the people now call the Black Plague. I sent one of the few stone creatures I had, to slay the Person and his Deathling. Since then, my creatures have dwindled.

I would have simply made another stone creature, but Fate informed me of your destiny. You are the one who must retrieve the Death Note and slay the Person responsible."

The voice echoed around the room, bouncing off the high walls and soaking into Christo's sopping wet skin. You could hear the gears in her ectoplasmic brain sputtering and mismatching the teeth. 'Why ME?' Christo started backing towards the door, 'There's nothing special about me, I don't know anything about this.' "The Fates-," '-Are wrong, th-there wrong! I-I-I can't POSSIBLY do what they ask of me!' She gasped in air only to violently cough out water.

"You underestimate yourself Christobel Orsola Cola."

Christo was overwhelmed by the emotions taking over her. Water gushed passed past her lips as she got more passionate, her hacking echoed across the room, 'No! I know I could never amount to anything important like that! I... I just want to move... I want to move on...,' Christo's face scrunched in agony, crying without tears, her own arms wrapping around her, curling up into herself, 'I thought that when I died, this all would be over, no more pain...'

Her hair and dress were thrashing around, a dark aura appearing around her. The sound of waves crashing against a cliff filled her ears, but her brewing storm started to calm when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. The female ghost had approached her, and placed a grit covered hand on Christo's slick shoulder. A small sound escaped past her lips, "Please..."

Christobel stared at the women, taking in more detail. She seemed relatively young, mid-to-late twenties maybe, and had dirty-blond hair, which was partially soaked with blood. Suddenly, a new memory seeped into her brain.

~o0O0o~ «female ghost's pov»

-I watched the passing countryside fly by as I sat in the car with my husband and son. I smiled at my love as he squeezed my hand, only one hand on the wheel. We were heading into to town to pick up some essential for on our farm, such as toothpaste, toilet paper and such. Perhaps a new toy for L.

I twisted in my seat to gaze at my child. He was asleep in his carseat, mouth agape. I was as a wave of drool poured out and I chuckled. I took the remains of his snack and place it the cup holder of front. It was a popsicle made out of frozen honey and strawberry, a treat we both enjoy. L's father on the other hand can't stand sweets, which is ironic because one would think L would be exactly like his father, since he looked like a miniature double.

They both shared wild raven locks and steel grey eyes. Speaking of the devil, I caught him looking at me with with a soft smirk. I watched him as he put his eyes back on the road, stretching his muscular arms. He wasn't overly muscled, but he was strong and lithe, like me, from our days at the Cirque Du Cœur. I thought about how he had whisked me away from the stern beatings I received there as the scenery started to involve more concrete.

We could have easily gone a small shop in our town, but we wanted L to be able to see the Eiffel Tower for his first time.

We entered the city of Paris by the road leading to and from the nearest airport and there was a wreck up ahead, so the cement path was crowded.

We waited for the traffic to trickle past the bottleneck, and soon it was our turn to speed past. We drove a little while longer at a comfortable pace when I heard the squeal of tires. Looking in the passenger side mirror, I angled my head to witness a fancy Ferrari swerving inbetween cars, cause them to swerve for control. I watched in horror as it caught up with us and-

~o0O0o~

The foreign memory ended there. Christo backed away from the deceased mother, shocked by the memory. Was that how she died? And that boy, her son, she had a feeling he had a significant role in what was to come.

"The reason for Mr. and Mrs. Lawliet being here is to grant you permission to serve their son, L Lawliet."

Christo perked up when she heard the voice speak again.

"Due to the rules in place, the only way you can have a living body is if you become a Minion."

Christo's brow furrowed at the not so glamorous name. The voice, apparently seeing her expression, went into detail, "The name was coined when bad souls were sent to the Realm of People to serve a Person, usually a Righteous one."

The woman crossed her arms, waiting for more information, interested now. In the corner of her eye, she noticed movement. She looked behind to watch the stone demon walked into the room, he (she, it?) looked as if he was cradling something. When was close enough he kneeled to Christo, who peered into his outstretched hands. There were two silver cuffs, similar to the gold cuffs he wore. Mr. And Mrs. Lawliet drifted over, each taking a cuff. Mrs. Lawliet held Christo's right arm, ready to place it there at the ghoul's word.

Christo looked into the woman's eyes. 'She is asking me to protect her child, something she cannot do herself.', Christo's torpid heart went out to her. After a moments hesitation, she nodded.

The mother smiled in relief, then spoke. Her voice was heavenly, soft, and sweet, "This cuff will give you form. As long as you have this on, you have the body you had in life." The cool metal closed around her right wrist, but nothing happened except for it diverting how the water flowed down her arms. Christo looked at her with wide eyes, but the other woman simply held her hand up in a gesture for patience. Christo felt her other arm being seized by a callused hand. She watched Mr. Lawliet as he spoke to her. His grip was gentle, yet urgent, "This cuff will bind you to the Realm of People. It will never come off until our son wishes so, or when he dies at his destined time. If he dies before he is meant to, this cuff will drag you to the twelfth tier in the Lands of Labor." A chill went through the woman as the man's cold grey eyes bore into her's.

A gravel-like voice spoke next, "And I will be your communication between realms." Christo's shoulders lost some tension as she realized the stone demon from outside would guide her. As the second cuff was clasped, the world turned upside down and color exploded in color, greens and blues, a little yellow, wisps of brown and red.

~o0O0o~

[A/N: 'Allo, sorry for the wait. I will be changing the rating to M for gore, but I also add more... adult themes. If I can be persuaded. Although you might not need to, 'cause I'm being very convincing to myself right now. I mean, fanfiction is great right? Why not have the happy surprise of a lemon? Tehe... bye .-.]


End file.
